Hold Onto Me
by common courtesy
Summary: Just when Max is starting to put her life back together, she finds a boy in a cemetery. Everything is downhill from there. Fang can't remember anything, not his name or his past or how he came to be in a cemetery. After a bit of an investigation, Fang isn't to sure that he wants to remember. Fax. AH.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don****'****t own Maximum Ride.**

**Max**

I had decided a very long time ago that cemeteries were not a good place to be, alone or otherwise. Not because I was scared of ghosts, or thought zombies would claw their way out of graves, but simply because of what cemeteries are. Everytime I walk in or near a cemetery I am just reminded of how one day I'll probably just be a rotting skeleton buried 6 feet in the ground. Fun! So no, I did not enjoy cemeteries, but today I was making an exception. _Just for you, dear old dad_, I thought bitterly.

Sighing I get out of my truck, thinking that I may as well get this over with. I hadn't brought any flowers, he'd hated flowers. It's 5PM and the sun is already starting to go down, oh the joys of winter. It's been windy and snowing all day and so I should have expected the cold, but it hits me hard. "Stupid freaking snow," I mutter, I retrieve my coat from my truck and then shut the door. Once I have my coat on the cold isn't so bad, which I suppose, was to be expected. "Okay" I say, zipping my coat up, "time to walk through a cemetery in the dark, no big deal," I assure myself.

Once I enter the cemetery I don't feel any better. If possible I feel worse."It's ok, Max, Just find his grave," I sigh, "And stop talking to yourself."

I don't remember where his grave is, I haven't been here since the funeral which was a year ago. Was it near the front or the back? Did cemeteries have an organization system? Or maybe a cemetery librarian? Yes, I thought, maybe I could be a cemetery librarian, yelling at all of the dead to quiet down. I almost laugh at my own lame joke, but then I see the dead body.

"Shit," I curse, and close my eyes, hoping that my nerves had gotten the best of me and I was just hallucinating, I open my eyes. Nope, it's still there.

"Shit," I say again, and walk over to the body. _Oh you__'__re smart, _I think, _just walk right on up to the dead body in the middle of the cemetery, nothing could go wrong, _I shake my head. I look down at the body, it is a man, laying on the ground with his back pressed against a tomb stone. A light layer of snow covers his black coat, he hasn't been here long. His shaggy black hair covers most of his face. His skin is pale and his lips are slightly tinged blue, my stomach churns. I start to pull my cell phone out of my jean pocket, thinking that I had to call the police, but then the body moves. It's just a slight shift, but it definitely moved. "O god," I breathe, "You aren't dead." He doesn't respond.

I nudge him with my foot, his eyes open, they are as dark as his hair. "You need to get up," I tell him, he blinks, shivers, and closes his eyes again.

"Hey!" I nudge him again,"You can't sleep here." He doesn't respond, again. I weigh my options, I could leave, and maybe he'd just finish his nap, get up, and leave. I knew though that if I left he may also just stay here all night and freeze to death. Then he really would be a dead body. I sigh, knowing that I should help him.

"C'mon" I tug at the sleeve of his coat, "Time to get up." His eyes open again and he pulls his arm away. I scowl and grab his hand, trying not to panic when I realize how cold he is, "Up," I demand and pull his hand upwards. He frowns, sits up, wraps his free arm around himself and shivers again.

"Ya, that's what you get for sleeping in cemeteries," I comment on his shivering. He doesn't seem to acknowledge me. He's looking around in a complete daze, like he's not aware of anything. Still holding one of his hands, I wave my other hand in front of his face in an attempt to get his attention. It works, sort of. Atleast now he's looking at me.

"You've got to stand up," I pull on his hand again. He seems to atleast understand me this time and starts to make an effort to stand up.

When he's finally standing up he I'm sure that he's just going to fall down again. He's started shivering like mad and his shaking legs look ready giveaway at any second.

I get him to lean against me and I wrap my arm around his waist and guide him out of the cemetery."The good news," I say as we near my truck, "Is that I don't think you have hypothermia." He blinks, "Tha bad news, is that I'm not a doctor." He frowns. "Ya, it 're going to get in my truck now."

I help him into the passenger seat and buckle him in, not sure that he'd be able to do it himself in this state. "If we're lucky, my mom will still be visiting." I tell him as I get into the drivers seat. He's staring out the window, not paying attention to anything. I sigh and crank up the heat, this was going to be a long night.

**Fang**

I wake up and I don't know where I am. I know that A) I'm laying on a couch covered in a mound of blankets, and that B) The blankets were making me way to hot. I kick the blankets off and try to sit up, a sharp pain radiates through my head. Ow, ok. No sitting. So now I don't know where I am and I have some kind of head injury. Fine, whatever. I try to think back to last night, or any night, and find that I can't remember anything. What did I do last night? Where am I? What is my name? I couldn't remember. _Ok, I_ tell myself, _so what if you don__'__t remember you__'__re own name? No big deal, don__'__t panic. _Nope, telling myself not to panic wasn't helping.

"Hey," someone, a girl, says, and I nearly pee myself right there. "Hey, you're awake." Then there is a girl with dirty blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes leaning over me.

I want to ask her who she is, and then I want to ask her who I am, then I want to maybe yell at her for sneaking up on me like she had. I open my mouth, planning to ask her name, but nothing comes out. I can't talk. I try, I really do, but nothing comes out. Did I forget how to talk? No, I dont think that's possible.

The girl studies me like I'm an interesting species of animal. "Hi, my name is, Max."

Uh oh, she's telling me her name, does that mean that she doesn't even know who I am? "So Um, what's your name?" She asks.

I'm feeling like I might just throwup all over the pile of blankets I was under. What a great first impression that would be.

I swallow and shake my head. I dont know, I want to say, but I can't even do that. "You don't know?" She frowns. I nod.

"Oh, that's not good," she mumbles. I nod in agreement. "Um, can you talk?"

I shake my head.

"Well," She crosses her arms, "This is a problem."

I couldn't have agreed more.

**AN: **

**So I guess that****'****s the first chapter of my first fic. I don****'****t really think anyone is going to read it but it was fun to write so. If you did read it though then thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride**

**Max**

I've dealt with a lot of weird and not so fun things in my life, but never once did it ever even cross my mind that I'd end up in a situation like _this._ When I'd brought the guy from the cemetery to my apartment I'd thought worse case scenario he sleeps on my couch for the night, I give him breakfast in the morning, he thanks me for my hospitality, and then he leaves and we both move on with our lives. The universe however, had thought it would be even better to stick me with an amnesiac.

_Don't panic, Max, _I tell myself as I pace around my living room. I have to keep moving, moving helps me something to do other than sit and panic. _Think_ I insist, though thinking is not something I have mastered. Usually, I prefer to just _do_ and if things went wrong I'd just keep going until they were right. I couldn't do that right now, not when there was someone else involved. Especially since that someone else was currently sitting on the couch looking like he was going to be sick."Please don't throw up on my couch," I say, I mean it as a joke. Based on his reaction I can assume that he isn't a big fan of jokes. He frowns, and looks even more nauseated than he had before. _Smooth, Max. _"I'm just kidding," I tell him, "well, kind of." It probably would be better if he doesn't throw up on my couch.

"Look," I stop pacing for a moment, "I know this all kind of sucks, but it's going to fine, alright?" I try to sound as confident as possible, I am trying to convince not only him, but also myself that I truly believe this. He looks up at me and I can see that he is absolutely terrified, and I can't blame him I grab his hand and give it what I hope is a reassuring squeeze,"We'll figure this out."

"Figure what out?"

At first I think _holy crap this guy can talk, I've been pranked, _ but then I remember, I have a roommate. I groan and turn to see that it is infact my roommate. Iggy, my best friend since grade eight. Tall, lanky, strawberry blonde hair that flops over his pale blue eyes. Iggy likes to pretend that he's an idiot, though I'm pretty sure he's actually a genius. I mean, the guy is blind, has been since he was born, yet he can do most things better than me or anyone else.

" Remember that guy I brought in yesterday?" I ask, hoping that said guy wasn't offended by being called a "that".

Iggy nods, "You're cemetery pal, how is he?"

I explain the situation to Iggy who manages to not not interrupt me. When I am done Iggy is quiet for a moment, and I'm sure it's because he's thinking about what to do, but then when he opens his mouth instead of a solution I get, "Well, we should name him."

"_What?"_

Iggy smirks, "Well we can't just keep calling him, Guy, right?" He moves to the couch and plunks himself down right next to aforementioned guy."Hello, I'm Iggy," Iggy says, "I think I'm going to call you Victor, you look like a Victor." The guy looks disconcerted, but doesn't make any effort to argue with Iggy.

"Iggy, you can't just name people." I chide, and I am reminded of a mother telling her child not to name stray animals in fear that they might get attached.

Iggy doesn't appear to be even the slightest bit miffed,"Oh calm down, Max, I'm just playing." I bite back the urge to tell Iggy that now is not the time for playing. I know that humour is Iggy's way of staying calm much like moving was mine. Iggy jumps off the couch, "Well, let's go."

"Go where?"

" Um, to the police station," Iggy says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Now I feel like an idiot, of course going to the police was the solution. They could help us find someone who knew this guy, right?

"Uh, right, are you okay with that?" I ask the guy. He's still sitting on the couch but now he has his eye closed and a hand raised to his like he's fending a headache. I don't think he's heard my question at first, but then he opens his eyes and gives me a slight nod.

I smile, oh how good it feels to have a goal.

**Fang**

This is nuts. No, this is more than nuts, this is insane,this is madness, this is a joke. This kind of stuff is what people make cheesy movies about. It's not supposed to actually happen. Yet here I am, able to remember what a movie is and not my own name. I'm stuck with two people- Max, and Iggy. Max seems nice enough, if not a bit on edge, but I'm fairly sure that Iggy is slightly mad. He keeps trying to call me an assortment of odd names. "You can borrow my coat if you want, Dunlap," he'd said as we prepared to go to the police station. "Are you warm enough back there, Lester?" He'd ask from the front seat as Max started her truck up. Whatever, I can handle it as long as he continues to help me figure out who I am. The real cherry on top of my sundae is that I can't talk. I can't even grunt. Sure I can form the words, but they leave my mouth as nothing more than soundless breaths of air. This is proving to be a problem, especially at the police station.

I'd thought the police would be a good idea. Max could explain what was happening, then they could do whatever it is they had to do. I hadn't expected that they'd split us into separate rooms and interrogate us. "So, You don't remember a thing? Are you sure?" Officer Anne Walker, or Anne, as she'd told me to call her, asks.

I shake my head. Man I was tired of having to shake or nod my head in order to respond to people.

"And you're sure that you've never met, Max, or, Iggy, before?" I nod, though I'd really like to yell at her that of course I am not sure, I can't remember a thing. For all I know I'd known both of them my whole life and now they were playing a very sick prank on me.

"Neither of them have tried to hurt you?" Anne continues. I shake my head, they've both been harmless.

"Hmm alright, that's all. We're going to try our very best to help you." She flashes me a white toothed grin. She pushes her chair back and stands ups "Come on, I'll show you the way back."

She leads me back to main entrance, where Iggy and Max are both standing. Max is fidgeting, tapping her hands against her thighs. In the short period of time I'd known her I'd noticed that when she's nervous she fidgets or paces. _What's wrong now?_ I wonder.

"You!" Max exclaims when she sees me. If I had a dollar for everytime someone had referred to me as "you"," he", "him", or "that guy" today I'd be rich. " I don't know what they told you, but when they kept asking me if I had kidnapped you, and I Just want you to know that I did not" I blink. I hadn't even considered the possibility until now and I really did not want. I wave my hand dismissively thinking that if they had kidnapped me why would the bring me to the police?

"We don't really think you kidnapped him, the situation is just suspicious." It is Anne and she's grinning again. I'm not sure if she's being sincere or not. Max crosses her arm and makes a _hmph_ sound.

"Anyways," Anne continues, her smile falls and is replace with a more serious expression, "we're going to do some digging, and we should be able to figure something out." I hope by something she means someone, preferably someone who knew me well. " In the meantime you'll need somewhere to stay. I'm sure we could arrange something with one of the officers here."

"He can stay with us," Max interjects. "I mean. he doesn't have to, but it's an option."

Anne doesn't look to convinced that this is a good idea. but she looks at me like _well?_

I point to Max, I really don't think staying with a cop would be to much fun.

"Alright, if that's what you'd prefer I can't stop you," she sounds disappointed, "But I'm going to give you my number and if you need anything you can call. If we figure out anything we'll phone you."

"Cool" says Max.

"Indeed." Anne frowns. "I've got to ask, why didn't you take him to the hospital?"

Now Max is frowning. "Oh Max's mom checked him out last night, said he's fine." Iggy explains and I find myself thinking that I did not remember anyone checking me out.

Max sighs, "Mom isn't a doctor though Iggs, and she said he _probably_ wasn't seriously injured. Do you think we should take him to one?" Part of me thinks that yes we should, but another part cringes at the the thought.

"They'd probably be able to tell you why he can't remember and why he can't talk, though I'm not sure the'd be able to well, fix it."

Max shrugs, " It's your decision then." I shake my head, if they wouldn't be able to fix it the there was no point in going. "Alright, well that's that. If you don't mind we'll take your number and get going."

Pursing her lips Anne nods," Fine." She looks at me then and says "Best of luck to you."

* * *

Later after dinner, which Iggy cooked, because apparently he's some kind of cooking mastermind, Iggy tells me that I smell. Actually, he tells me that I smell worse than a truck full of sweat, but you get the point. So Max suggests that I shower, Iggy gathers some of his clothes and gives them to me, and then I'm led to the bathroom and showed how to use the shower.

Showering, it feels good. The day had been filled with unfamiliar people and events, but this felt familiar. I Must've really liked showers. I stay in the shower for about 30 minutes, not thinking, just enjoying the feeling of the hot water and the familiarity of washing myself. If I could just stay in the shower until this situation is resolved then maybe it wouldn't be so bad, though I'd probably be reduced to something that resembles a flesh colored raisin. When I finally finish in the shower I am feeling refreshed and much better than I had been feeling all day. _Maybe this won't be so bad, maybe my memories will come back soon, _I find myself thinking as I pull on the clothes I'd borrowed from Iggy. I'm starting to feel pretty optimistic when I see him, the man.

He's staring at me, dark eyes wide open, he looks lost. _He needs a haircut _ I think as I take in his messy black hair, It reaches his shoulders and some pieces are longer than others. I narrow my eyes at him, wondering who he is and what he's doing in here. He narrows his eyes to and I frown, I do not like being copied. He frowns to, like I am the one copying him and invading his space. When I realize what he is wearing, that it is the same green shirt and blue jeans as mine, realization hits me hard. I am looking in a mirror. The man Is me, we are the same. The thoughts come flooding in fast now.

_I don't even recognize myself_

_Is that really me?_

_Who am I?_

_I don't know, I don't know, I don't know._

_I want to know, I should know but I don't._

**AN: This chapter is a mess. I'm sorry.**

**Thank you so much for the follows and reviews they made me really happy.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**Max.**

I'm almost positive that if you look up the definition of "happiness" in the dictionary you'll find a very detailed description of a waffle. I think I'm going to marry a waffle. I mean, waffles are nice and quiet. They don't question my opinions or tell me what to do. Besides that, they're delicious. "Iggy, these waffles are the best, you've outdone yourself."

Iggy frowns around a bite of his own waffles, "Uh, Max, these are Eggos. I literally just put them in the toaster."

"Then our toaster is magical," I turn to tap the guy- Lester, Lance, Vincent, whatever it is that Iggy is currently calling him- on the shoulder. "Don't you agree?"

The guy, however, doesn't seem to have heard me as he is staring rather intensely at his plate of waffles. I sigh, this isn't unusual. He's been living with us for four days now, and there has been many moments where I'd found him staring at inanimate objects like they were keeping some kind of secret from him. I wave my hand in front of his face, snapping his attention back to the real world. For a moment he looks lost, like he's once again forgotten where he is. Then he shakes his head, looks at me and mouths, _"__Sorry.__"_

Mouthing words, is his new way of communicating. Of course sound never comes with the mouthed words and so sometimes it takes awhile to decipher what he is saying, but for the most part it works.

"It's alright," I tell him, because it really is.

"Anyways," Iggy stands up and brings his plate to the sink, dropping it in without grace, "Gazzy, and, Angel, are going to be here soon. We're spending the day job hunting. I hope to find work as an Alligator trainer at the zoo."

"Iggy, you're so scrawny, the Alligator would just eat you."

Iggy snorts, "Nothing but a small setback, my dear, Max."

I'm about to tell Iggy that it is times like this when I question why I am friends with him, when there's a knock at our door. "My ride has arrived!" Shouts Iggy, "Come in!" I glare at him, thinking I would need to have a talk with him about just inviting people in without knowing for sure who they are.

Our apartment door swings open and there stands two of my other childhood friends, Gazzy, and his younger sister, Angel. "Hello," Angel greets.

"Hey, Angel." I call as I put my now empty plate in the sink.

"Iggy!" Says Gazzy, and walks over to him, they then engage in some kind of handshake they'd created.

"Hey," Angel shuts the apartment door, "Hey, Max, who's that?" At first I'm like, what? Because Angel knows who Iggy and I are, but then I realize that she's talking about the guy.

Iggy and I haven't exactly gotten around to telling any of our friends about him, not that we have alot of friends to tell. "Oh, he's a um," I falter as I try to think of what exactly he is to Iggy and I.

"He's a friend," Iggy supplies, "Max, found him."

"Found him?" Gazzy asks, sounding beyond confused, "Like he's a long lost childhood friend?" He glances over at the guy who's looking pretty uncomfortable.

Iggy rolls his eyes, "Gosh, no, Gazzy. Come on, I'll explain to you on the way to the mall." Gazzy and Angel exchange looks that clearly show they are both very lost. Iggy grabs his coat and herds the siblings out the door, "I'll explain," he repeats, "see you later, Max."

"Sorry about that," I apologize once the door closes.

"_It__'__s fine,__"_ he says, though he still looks startled. _"__Why didn__'__t you go with them?_"

I blink, "You mean why didn't I go job hunting?" He nods. "Oh, I already have one. I'm just taking a break right now."

"_Oh."_

"Well, anyways, now that Iggy is gone, wanna do something fun?" I ask, an idea forming.

He shrugs as if to say, like what?

"We're going to build a fort," I tell him, and he looks at me like, wow, Max you're 21 and you want to make forts? Real mature. I scowl, "Don't look at me like that. Forts are fun. You're never to old for forts."

He looks skeptical, but he nods. "Yes! C'mon, It'll be an experience."

So we gather sheets and blankets and pillows from both mine and Iggy's room and bring the chairs from the dining table into the living room. Once we have everything in place it takes less then 10 minutes to put it all together into a fort. Granted, it's not the best fort ever, but it is our fort and so it will do.

"It is complete!" I announce, and then we both crawl in and lay down on a blanket we had put down as the floor of our fort. The blanket cielings drape over us, casting shadows and making it seem almost comfy, almost. "I hate these things," I admit.

He sits up and looks down at me, his eyebrows furrowed, _"__what?__"_

I resist the urge to laugh at his expression, "It's to closed in. Drives me nuts," I explain.

"_Then why did we make one?_" He's frowning now.

"Good memories. Now lay back down and shush, you're ruining it." He rolls his eyes but complies with my request.

So we continue to lay there and I think I must've fallen asleep because the next thing I new I'm being nudged awake by him and he's holding a ringing phone out to me. I take the phone from him and press the talk button, "What?" I grumble into the phone. What can I say? I'm grumpy after naps.

"This is Officer Anne Walker, Is it safe to assume that I'm speaking with Max Ride?" Oh crap, I sit up.

"Yup, that is indeed a safe assumption. What's up?" Was it appropriate to ask police officers what's up or should I have been more formal?

"That man is still living with you, right?"

"Mhm, he's right here," I respond, glancing over at him. He's staring intently at me.

"Good. Well, we've managed to locate some people who claim to know him. His neighbors, to be exact," Anne explains in a no nonsense kind of voice.

"Oh, wow. That's great. Do we get to meet them?"

"Of course, I'll give you the address and meet you there. We'll talk to his supposed neighbors and if we can we'll check out his living quarters."

Then I have to get out of the fort and race around the apartment until I found a pen and a piece of paper. I write down the address Anne gives me, then she hangs up saying she'll meet us there in an hour. I scribble a quick note for Iggy, to explain where we've gone- I can only hope Gazzy and Angel come in with him. Then explaining all of this to the guy and we're out the door and on our way within 5 minutes.

**Fang**

My intitial reaction when Max had told me that we were maybe going to where I'd lived was wow, I'm finally going to figure something out. Now that we were here, here being a old apartment building, I was a little less hopeful. I'm feeling pretty nervous when Anne leads us to the 3rd floor of the apartment building and knocks on the door of apartment 45. It takes only a moment, though to me it feels like hours, before the door is opened to reveal a pretty women with long red hair. Instead of saying hi she says "Fang!" and smiles.

I'm looking around for another person, or maybe an animal, wondering who Fang is. The red head frowns, "You really don't remember then? Bummer." That's when I realize that I am Fang.

I know that I should be ecstatic that I finally know my name, but really I'm just wondering, what kind of a stupid name is Fang?

"No, he doesn't remember anything, I'm Officer Walker. Would you happen to be, Ms. Lissa?"

The redhead, giggles, "Yes, but just call me Lissa, please. Come in." She steps away from the door allowing us to step in.

Anne and Max start bombarding her with questions, and I know I should be paying attention, but I'm distracted. Distracted by the fact that this girl knows me, and so I had obviously known her, but I can't remember her.

"Does he live with anyone else?" Asks Max. Lissa says that no, I don't.

"Did you see him the day he went missing?" Asks Anne. Lissa nods her head and claims she'd seen me leave my apartment in the afternoon.

"Could he talk to you?"

Lissa frowns, "Nah. I've never heard him say a word."

And so it goes.

From what we've been told it doesn't sound like Lissa actually knows me that well. She knows me because I am her neighbor, and that is it. My hope is crumbling. "His apartment is probably unlocked, if you wanna go in there," Lissa offers helpfully as we stand to leave.

"Why would it be unlocked?" Anne asks, obviously suspicious of Lissa.

"Oh, Fang, just never ever really locked it. I know because once he totally phoned me asking me to go in and turn his oven off 'cause he'd forgotten."

_Wow_, I think, _I must be really stupid._

"Right. Well, We'll try it," And so we do.

My apartment is the one across the hall from Lissa's, number 46. We turn the door knob, and what do you know? It's unlocked.

It's a small apartment, especially compared to Max's. There are no people inside and save for a few things, it's surprisingly clean. It doesn't feel like my home. I don't feel any connection to it, it feels like i'm intruding on someone else's place.

I'm in the living room when I find the picture. It is a picture of me, a very young me with a women that looks kind of like me with dark hair and eyes. I stare at it, feeling something stir in my memories. This happens often, I see something or do something that gives me a sense of dejavu, but I can never connect it to the actual memory.

"Is that your mom?" It's Max, looking over my shoulder to see the picture.

_Is that your__ mom? _The question echos in my mind. I swallow and set the photograph down. My mother, I've forgotten my own mother.

I turn to Max, I tell her I want to leave, right now. She looks confused, but I can't explain this.

This place isn't my home, and I need to get out.

**AN: I think I like the process of writing a whole lot more than the actual finished product. Thanks to eeccllaaiirree and pancakes-for-you for reviewing and to anyone who followed this, I really appreciate it.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride**

I'm not exactly a master at sleeping. Infact, I'm quite bad at it. So obviously over the course of many nights with poor sleep, I've master the art of sneaking out. Really it's quite simple, especially when Iggy is your roommate. So when I'm in the process of putting on my coat and boots I do not expect to experience the not so pleasant sensation of someone breathing down your neck. "Holy- Fang?" Yup, it's Fang. Eyes open wide like _he__'__s _the one who's just been snuck up on. "Dude, you can't just do that, make some noise or something when you approach people."

He gives me an exasperated look, _"__I can__'__t talk_." I scowl, of course I know that, but he could have stomped or clapped or something. I do not enjoy being snuck up on, not one bit. Fang smirks, and I know that it's because he's enjoying my increased annoyance. What a jerk.

"Anyways," I say, planning to throw the conversation away from it's purpose of annoying me, "what are you doing up?"

"_Can__'__t sleep.__"_ It hits me then that I've never really bothered to check up on Fang's sleeping habits. I guess I've just been assuming that he curls up on the couch everynight and is out like a light.

"_Why are you up?"_

"Same as you," I sigh, "Get your stuff on." I hope that he knows that by "stuff" I mean his shoes and coat. "We're going for a walk."

"This, used to be a Mcdonalds," I tell Fang as we look at what is mostly a flat plot of land with the frame of a new building on top of it. "See, like month or so ago these guys accidently set the place on fire. No one died or anything but now they're rebuilding it and no more for us for another month," I finish and turn to Fang who mock gasps and mouths, "_How horrible.__"_

This is the first stop on our walk. I've decided that since Fang can't remember this place, I might as well show him all of the important stuff. "Moving on!" I shout and grab Fang's arm, pulling him away from the skeleton of a building.

Our next stop is only a 5 minute walk away from our first. It is an old house and that is it. There is nothing special about it. "This, is the house," I tell Fang, who seems particularily unimpressed wìth it. "This is the house that all the kids think is haunted or something, you know?" His expression doesn't change, so I press on, "When I was a kid the story was that if you walk up the lawn and knock on the door three times it will open. Then a vampire would swoop down from the ceiling, snatch you up, and drink your blood."

Fang still isn't looking to impressed, he is however giving me a questioning look, _"__You believed that?__"_

"I was 5," I say defensively, "Let's move on."

So I pull him along to various places and explain their importance. Eventually we reach our last stop.

"This is the swinging bridge," I point to a bridge that isn't really swinging, "atleast it used to be the swinging bridge. One of those bridges made with rope and wooden planks." Fang nods thoughtfully, like he is trying to picture the bridges former form. "They had to take it down, it was to unstable, it would swing around when wind blew, hence it's name. So they built this one." The new bridge is made of concrete, cables, and wood. Definitely safer than the previous, but it lacks character. "But this isn't why we're here. The park, which is where the bridge leads, is cursed."

Fang is giving me a skeptical look now, so I grab his hand and we walk across the new bridge to the old park. The park isn't really a park, there aren't any slides, swings, sandboxes, or play structures. This park is filled with statues. Exactly 27 crudely sculpted stone statues of 27 different people. These statues are not beautiful or anatomically correct in the slightest. They are terrible looking things, arms and legs bent in unnatural ways, and the faces sculpted into expressions of terror. "What do you think?" I ask Fang quietly, who is looking around with a very distant look on his face.

"_Cursed_" is his response.

"Yes. The story is that there was once this guy who was very lonely, and he was very ugly. People would look at him and say he was a monster, they didn't give him a chance to be their friend," I pause, seeing if Fang is even listening. His eyes are infact glued to me, he gestures for me to keep going. "Right, so he was very lonely and for a long time he was very sad. One day though, his sadness turned to anger. He went mad, started killing people who denied his he'd take them here, and he'd bury their bodies. After burying them he'd build a statue over where he'd buried that person and trap their souls inside. The statue was supposed to be a representation of the ugliness inside the person he'd killed. He started talking to the statues, they became his police figured it out though, what he was doing. So they came here and dug up all the bodies. They locked the guy up. No one else was killed but the souls are still trapped in the statues. Now they say it's cursed."

I look at Fang and his shoulders are moving up and down in a weird shaking motion. _I__'__ve scared him! _I think. Then I look closer and, "Fang, are you laughing?"

The shaking ceases and Fang shrugs, "_That is a ridiculous story.__"_

_"_It is not," I say as Fang moves to touch one of the statues, "if you touch that you'll contract the curse." His shoulders start shaking again in soundless laughter. "You know, this is the exact same way my dad reacted when I told him this story."

_"Sorry."_

"You kind of remind me of him, you know?" The scentence slips out of my mouth without thought.

_"Is that bad?"_

"No. He was a scientist, very interested in science and facts. He'd listen to stories, but to him they were as good as jokes." A memory is clawing it's way to the top of my mind, the same memory that always comes when I think about dad. _Hands holding my shoulders, fingers digging into my skin. Dad's wild eyes trying to hold mine "your stories, your art, your imagination, Max, are all nice, but they are useless. Math, Max, science, those are the future." Dad letting go of my shoulders, his hands now running through my hair, "most people, when they get older, turn it off, Max. They turn of their need and their want to learn. You can't teach them new things! They believe that because they are old they know enough. People like me though, Max, people like me will never know enough. So, Max, please never turn it off. Never put a cap on your need to learn, Promise me?"_ Then, a month later, he was found dead.

I'm shaking my head now, trying to shake the memories away. I find myself wishing that like Fang I could just forget everything. Wipe myself clean, be a new person. I sigh, "let's go home, Fang."

**AN**: **This is a filler, sorry.**

**Huge thanks to anyone reading this fic. I'm not used to having people read what I write and it's pretty cool.**


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